Page 1 of Rescue My Heart

1

MAZEY

Ican’t believe this is the place, Mazey Snow thought to herself as she stepped into the hotel room, her breath catching in her throat. The room was modern and sleek with a wall of windows that looked out over the sprawling hills and jagged cliffs of Phoenix Ridge. Phoenix Ridge—she hadn’t heard of it before landing the job, but now, standing here, she had to admit it was beautiful in an eerie, quiet way. The type of beauty that felt like it was hiding something. Majestic yet haunting, a perfect setting for the show she'd signed on to.

Her fingers traced along the edge of the desk as she walked through the room, still taking it all in. The cool air from the vent hit her skin, reminding her just how far she'd come. There was a lot riding on this, more than just another paycheck. This was the job she’d been waiting for, the one where she could finally show her authentic self without feeling like she had to bend to fit someone else’s expectations. Edge of the Abyss. What a name for a show, she thought, letting out a small chuckle. It was fitting, though. Everything about this job felt like standing at the edge of something. Whether it was her career or her personal life, she didn’t quite know.

Mazey set her suitcase on the bed, slowly unzipping it as she thought about the weeks ahead. The people she'd meet, the work she'd do. This was her big shot, and she wasn't about to waste it. But, as excited as she was, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease curling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t nerves, at least not in the way she was used to. It was something deeper, something unfamiliar that made her want to pull the curtains closed and lock herself away. Maybe it was the place. Or maybe it was the pressure she had put on herself to finally be the person she’d always wanted to be, without hiding, without holding back.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, absentmindedly scrolling through emails and social media as if looking for some sort of distraction, something to calm her racing thoughts. Everyone who knew her would say she was lucky. She had been working in television, chasing her dream, getting to travel to places like this. And she was. She knew that. But what no one saw was how exhausting it was to constantly pretend and shape herself into whatever version of Mazey Snow they wanted her to be.

Not this time. This time, she would be herself. All of herself. No more holding back, no more second-guessing if she was too loud, too much. The show’s producers had told her they wanted someone with a fresh voice, someone who would bring something different to the table, and she planned to give them exactly that. Edge of the Abyss was going to be her moment, her chance to stop living on the edges of her own life and start diving in, consequences be damned.

The suitcase lay open on the bed, her clothes folded neatly, but she couldn’t bring herself to unpack yet. Instead, she wandered over to the window, pushing back the sheer curtains and staring out at the rolling hills that disappeared into the distance. A part of her felt connected to this place already, as ifPhoenix Ridge was a crossroads where she might finally decide which direction her life would go.

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange-pink glow over the landscape. The shadows stretched longer, and for a moment, everything seemed still, too still. Mazey’s hand rested on the window, and she felt the glass cool beneath her palm. She’d made a promise to herself to embrace this opportunity fully, but standing here now, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of what that truly meant.

Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. There was no turning back now. Phoenix Ridge was the kind of place where people found something they didn’t know they were searching for, whether it was success, truth, or something else entirely. And she had the feeling that, by the end of it all, she’d find exactly what she’d been running from for so long: herself.

Mazey ran a hand through her hair, eyes drifting to the pile of clothes in her suitcase. There was no rush. She had time. The rest of the crew would arrive in the morning, and from there, it would be a whirlwind of filming, scripts, and long nights. But for now, tonight, she had Phoenix Ridge all to herself. She smiled, the tension in her shoulders loosening just a little. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something better.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with an unfamiliar number, and she swiped to answer. Must be someone from the show.

“Hello!” she greeted, her voice bright and charismatic.

“Ms. Snow. The director wants you to come check out the filming spot,” came the reply, curt and efficient.

“Oh, really? Okay, I’ll get ready. Could you tell the makeup artist to come to my room?”

“Of course, Ms. Snow. She’s on her way.”

Mazey hung up and glanced at the outfit her stylist had laid out. Sporty yet chic, exactly what was expected of her. She sighed as she slipped into the ensemble, the fabric cool against her skin. Every detail had been thought out for her, down to the accessories. She always had to look perfect, polished, and effortlessly chic, no matter how she actually felt. There was no room for a bad day. Bad days meant bad press, and the media loved to pounce on the tiniest flaw in her image. Exhausting. But it was part of the job, one she’d come to accept.

Just as she finished adjusting her clothes, there was a knock at the door. The makeup artist had arrived.

Mazey opened the door and was greeted by a young woman clutching a large black makeup case. “It’s such a pleasure to be working with you,” the artist gushed, her face lighting up. “Mazey Snow, I can’t believe it! I’ve watched all your movies since you were just a teenager. You were such an inspiration. I thought you were the coolest.”

Mazey flashed a warm smile, her tone gracious as always. “You’re so kind. Thank you so much. Honestly, it’s all thanks to the amazing production teams and the people I work with. I’d be nothing without all of you.”

“Oh my god, you’re even kinder than you seem in interviews. You just always come across so funny and laid back. I remember watching this interview you did on?—”

Mazey listened, or at least appeared to. She’d gotten good at that over the years, smiling and nodding at all the right moments while her mind drifted elsewhere. There’s a role to play, even off-screen, she reminded herself. It wasn’t that she disliked the admiration or the praise. But it all felt routine, rehearsed. Just another part of the performance.

As the artist continued talking, Mazey’s mind slipped into preparation mode. She was thinking about the scene, about the character she needed to embody today. She could hear the artist’s voice in the background but wasn't fully present. That was her talent. She could make it seem like she was listening, even while a million other things swirled in her head.

Suddenly, the artist asked a question that pulled Mazey back to the moment.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”

“Oh, I was just asking if you wanted your hair up or down.”

Mazey tilted her head slightly, considering the image she wanted to project. “I think up would be most fitting, don’t you?”

“I totally agree,” the artist replied with a smile.

A few minutes later, the artist swept Mazey’s hair into an elegant, yet casual updo. When she was done, Mazey glanced at her reflection. She looked flawless, everything in place, every detail perfect. She felt a flicker of relief that she wasn’t the one responsible for making herself look this way.One less thing to worry about, she thought. It was a strange comfort knowing that if anything was off, there was someone else to blame. That tiny bit of pressure lifted made it all a little more bearable.

“Thank you so much,” Mazey said, standing up from the chair. “Do you want to walk to the set together?”

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